


The World's Saddest Detective

by hostileplant



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, anxious angus mcdonald, lucretia taz, this is like before stolen century ?, this isnt like a weird thing also i just know lucretia was one of angus's biggest fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostileplant/pseuds/hostileplant
Summary: Angus McDonald finds himself drowning in an abundance of overwhelming anxieties. Lucretia steps in and consoles him. Thanks, Lucretia!





	The World's Saddest Detective

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this last year and never did anything with it! i might write more TAZ fics if ppl like this! n_n i based this on my own rising anxieties back in the day as a middle schooler. d-: anxiety bites!!!!

Usually, the clock’s ticking was in perfect sync with Angus’s heartbeat. He had observed this many times, most often in the still darkness of his dormitory. It was much like a peaceful song, perfect for coaxing his tireless mind into sleep. However, it seemed that tonight he would be provided with no such remedy. Angus’s heart pounded against his chest, and it was much faster than the clock. His fingers clutched the edges of his comforter securely, his eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. He could barely make it out in the blackness, but he was sure that each tile was still in place. And why wouldn’t it be? It wasn’t as if there was some fairy, rearranging his ceiling when he was away. Still, he found that his observation skills were constantly supplying him with useless bits of information that he would replay in his mind--often over and over again. He guessed it came with being The World’s Greatest Detective. The thought made him scoff as he turned over onto his side, the mattress quietly creaking underneath him. He pulled his blanket over his head, as if somehow, that of all things would make him feel better.

It was funny, he thought, that The World’s Greatest Detective could solve almost every mystery except the one he wondered about the most. Why wasn’t he enough? He wasn’t enough for his parents, and it seemed like he wasn’t good enough for anyone here either. He persistently worked to remind himself that they were just quips and goofs. No one meant the cruel or harsh things they said. No one meant to demean him into the one thing he was and probably would forever be: a stupid and clueless little boy. The World’s Greatest Detective was a sham, a fraud. He wasn’t anything but an _idiot_ , masquerading himself among people doing good work. Angus McDonald, professional eleven-year old failure. He squeezed his eyes shut as they threatened to well up with tears.

“No, no, no,” he whispered, trying to push the thought out of his head. He did so much here. He helped so much. Right? Right? _Right?_ As much as he pushed the question, no answer came. He pushed his small hands underneath his feather pillow in hopes that they would stop shaking, but it seemed to no avail. They only shook harder as his breath got faster. His brain was dizzy. Despite his best efforts to keep from crying, his eyes overflowed with tears. His nails scraped against his pillow case, and a shiver ran down his spine at the sound the silk made. He felt oh-so pathetic, and the feeling only worsened as a pitiful sob left the back of his throat. More followed. He didn’t deserve to be here after all, did he? He was nothing. He only got in the way. Perhaps the only thing he truly deserved was--

He jumped as his door squeaked open, turning over instinctively to look at his unexpected guest. “Taako?” he wheezed out, breathless from his bouts of crying.

“Not quite,” the visitor answered with the smallest hint of laughter, taking a seat at the end of the bed and reaching a hand out to take Angus’s. He felt his features soften as he felt the warmth of The Director’s hands. “Mada..Madame director...I-I didn’t mean to bother you, ma’am, I--”

He was cut off by a soothing and calming voice. “That’s alright, Angus. I heard you and...well... ” she answered, squeezing his hand gently. “I..don’t mean to pry, and it’s understandable if you don’t want to speak to me, but..” She trailed off, her brown eyes meeting his. They couldn’t see one another very well in the dark, but she frowned as she caught glimpse of his wet and shiny sad eyes. The two seemed to sit like that for a moment, an uncomfortable silence creeping upon them.

“Madame Director…” Angus finally spoke up. “I...I’m no help here at all, am I? I mean, I know I can figure things out sometimes, and I-I’m really good about cleaning up, but…I’m no..no...real help. No real help at all.” He sniffled, wiping a sleeved arm across his eyes.

“Angus…” She paused, almost shocked at the words. “You realize that you’re absolutely brilliant, don’t you? At your age, I wasn’t half the genius you are.” “But what good’s being smart if I can’t use it for any real purpose? I’m just--” “Angus McDonald, you help hold this team together. I promise you. Those boys might give you a hard time, but...people like you is why they’re doing this. Sweet, compassionate, and brilliant people like you. And you know something, Angus? I’ve never met a boy detective who can solve a mystery as well as you can. We all know that--every single one of us.” Lucretia’s eyes widened as she felt tiny arms fling around her neck. “Oh...um…” She grew silent once more, patting his head. Angus rested his head on her shoulder, tears still trickling down his face.

“Thank..Thank you, Madame Director, thank you,” he mumbled, smiling the softest and tiniest of smiles. 


End file.
